LUPUS IS LIVING WITH ME & I'M LIVING LIFE!!
Take a journey into my universe.
Partake in the unveiling of my deepest, darkest and intimate realities.
Experience my struggles with life and my battle against lupus.
Explore with me in my quest to discover happiness in my own utopia.

I am still battling this fatigue. I went to my daughters early Saturday morning. I was there by 8am because she had to work. My son was coming with an escort from the rehab to get his clothes and stuff. My daughters' father was suppose to be going out. When I arrived, remember what time I told you it was, her father just woke up and was drinking, not orange juice, brandy. He was okay for an hour or so. My son called and said he would be there soon. I asked the father to move his empty bottle, he gets all nasty it's empty. Empty or not it puts the idea there. So my son comes everything is fine he and the escort eat and hang for a little bit then leave. My daughters' friend was there and when they live she asks me where my son was going, I tell her to rehab and that the guy was an escort. I say to my daughters' father that's why I asked you to move the bottle. He gets nasty and says, I did, but it was empty and I live here. I got so pissed I went into the bathroom to keep from saying. "Mother fucker, this is my daughters' place and that is her brother she cares about. I didn't ask you to stop drinking I just ask you to put move the bottle." I didn't want to further go off and say, " You don't pay rent, you live off my daughter you spent a couple of thousand dollars on a computer and desk and took the chair my daughter brought for her computer desk to use. You got a check last year to baby sit the kids, this year you don't babysit, maybe once and a while you take them to school. My daughter wanted to go to school and she worked around your schedule but you went and changed yours so you wouldn't have to baby sit. And your ass is still getting a check from public assistance for babysitting. And you don't give my daughter, your child any money. You use the electricity and cable line. You never paid me any child support at all. You are a selfish son of a bitch. This is why you are a drunk because you are unhappy no one wants to be around you too long. You're a freak." But I didn't say any of this because I don't like to make waves. But at least I got it out on this blog. And it felt good.

I got home about 8pm that night. I was tired and I had to go to the rehab to do a family visit with my son. My mate wasn't feeling well, she ate an old tangerine and her stomach was upset, but not only that she was having pains in her left arm. In the morning her arm was still hurting, she was up most of the night in the bathroom, so she wanted to go to the ER. Imagine going to the ER with someone and not for myself. I call the rehab and tell them I can't make it. We sit in the rehab for a few hours and everything is fine and we come back home.

Tomorrow I'm suppose to meet this woman to help me with the medicare. It's suppose to snow again, another major storm. I don't know, I think I should reschedule, I don't want to get into Manhattan and get stuck. The problem is the womans' phone only takes messages and she only comes in on Tuesdays. something so minor as this stresses me out.

I'm almost caught up to this day with my life. I mentioned though out my story how mean my mate is. Don't get me wrong, she has a kind nature about her. She is considerate of my well being. She will do what ever she can to make me comfortable, as long as it doesn't inconvenience her. She doesn't care what she says or how it hurts. She knows that I'm sensitive, but she will say things to hurt me. If I point out a flaw of hers', she will do a tic for tack thing. She gets defensive and tells me what my flaws are. Let me tell you I have hundreds. I talk too much, I don't remember to put things away. I sort my pills and sometimes they fall to the floor. Sometimes I can't find them, she tells me I don't look. She doesn't understand that I can't remember things. She tells me I'm lazy because I can sit at the computer but can't sweep the floor or something. The list can go on and on and on. I spend a lot of time crying, but that's me. To be honest the only person I expressed myself to freely and who understood me was Mr. 23 years, but he couldn't make me happy he had his negative ways. I guess I was meant to be alone like my mother. I don't know what kind of person I want in my life. Maybe it's me, like my brother said. I'm a fuck up.

My mate, when we first met she would buy me gifts, pocketbooks, jewelry and take me out to eat. She buys me clothes still but she gets me men's clothes because that's what she wears. I don't want a mens' jacket. She made promises when we met, but it ain't no different then a man who tries to woo you. She said she would take me on a cruise and it hasn't happened. She still talks about it but I won't hold my breath. She doesn't even take me out locally. I only have her winter and spring concerts to look forward. I enjoy myself but it's not like going to a play or even a movie. We use to go out to eat, but now I should be happy to get a whopper when she comes in from the bar. Where she is if she doesn't have rehearsal. I am left alone so often, but it's not like I live alone because I am really nothing more then a guest. She will tell someone quickly that I'm her lover but I have no rights in the place I live. This is what hurts me the most. Being homeless. She's mellowed out a bit but I still have to remember to put everything away. I write and I like to have my papers around me but I can't I have to put them away and I end up hiding them a losing them because I can't remember where I put them.

She will encourage me to lose weight but turn around and fix me something to eat and pile the food on my plate, no matter how much I tell her not a lot. I like that she tries to take care of me but in the next breath she'll cuss me out. I say she's bi-polar and needs medication.

She has no interest in marriage. I don't want to marry a woman, but her stand is that she doesn't believe in marriage because of the community property thing. Her philosophy is what's mine is mine and what's yours is yours. I live here and her mother and her will say that's your potatoes or juice or what ever. We share food and drink, but saying that's yours makes me think twice about eating or touching different foods or things.

I don't know, I grew up in a household where we respected each other and ;listened to each other. I raised my children in a house hold that may have been dysfunctional but we respected each other. I'm living now in a household that everyone yells when they talk and are cold and harsh and sarcastic when they speak. I try to stand on my own feet but I'm not a fighter so I get stressed and nervous. I live my life on the computer, I get lost in my television shows, books or I go to sleep and try to dream a better life. This was my story.

This blog has ended I will start another blog soon. It will deal totally with lupus. I hope to write about my trails in a way that it will educate those who are struggling through this disease and for those who have family or friends with lupus. I hope to write a piece worthy of publication.

My 2Cents Not Worth A Penny

me

About Me

We live in a world full of certifiable, psychotic and derange crazies who are all on the verge of madness. Everyone is insane except me. I am sharing my rational, balanced and lucid knowledge in an attempt to save the world of total confinement in insanity.
But this is just my 2Cents and it's not worth a penny.

An Orphan’s Hope

Defecting from today’s sadness,
with hope of realizing tomorrow’s happiness.

Polluted dreams,
diluted realities.

Childhood fantasies,
adult terror.

Confined in a vacuum of isolation,
choking on ignored emotions.

An orphan quietly dying,
from an trivial life.

10/5/08

Highway to Success

Highway to Success

On my journey of life,
I took the path to the left,
off the express highway of success.
I trotted along melting tar,
through dusty dirty roads.
Over stony trails.

There were ditches in the darkness,
in some places.
A few times I fell flat on my face,
I’d get up,
wipe the blood from my nose and keep on going.
Blinded by the sun setting in the west,
As I traveled toward the fangs,
leading to the belly of the beast.
I’d trip on stones,
fall on my ass,
rise to my feet,
rub the tenderness and keep marching ahead.

There were signs posted pointing to detours,
I easily ignored.
There were alleys I could sneak down,
but on my course I stayed.
A map was folded in my pocket,
I never checked my directions.

It was an exciting journey of life.
Climbing up hills, rolling down.
Climbing back up and rolling back down.
Seems this last time,
I’ve been going down quite a while now.

Don’t see no detours,
no more alleys to sneak down.
My map was lost a ways back.
Long ago I was on the express highway of success.
I tried hitchhiking on the big rigs of lotto,
The numbers on the license plates just passed me by.

I’ll never get back onto the express highway of success.
I have to follow this path,
forward I go,
straight ahead.
On this bumpy path I choose.

Back when I began this journey of life.
While traveling on that express highway of success,
I woulda’, coulda’, shoulda’
took a right instead of a left.

I didn’t ask for directions.
I didn’t listen when directions were offered.
I ignored the detours.
I passed the alleys.
I lost my map.

I knew where I was going.

Somewhere on this path I lost my dreams,
and found a brick wall.
Now I know, I took a dead end road to failure.

I’m looking for my map.
Hoping to see one of those alleys.
Searching for those detour signs.
And asking for directions
back to the express highway of success.

I didn’t know how to refuse.
I cheated addiction,
I cheated HIV,
I cheated homelessness.

But I couldn’t cheat fate.

Gods’ vengeance prevails
just sucked the air right from my lungs,
presented me with the gift of emphysema,
maybe,
maybe if I partied in moderation,
No, No!!
that’s just stinking thinking.

I batted my bedroom eyes,
and flirted with the devil,
I wasn’t too shy to dance,

I must pay the price,
I crave oxygen,
And sleep, oh blessed sleep.

I partied hard,
I had fun,
now it’s time to pay,
an autoimmune disease is fighting me,

and Lucifer is still tempting me.

While God watches my
freedom of choice.
9/27/08

Glass Lady (what life was living with a crack head)

I can no longer compete,
with your lady in the glass.
She's your greatest love,
she means more to you,
then me or your children.

She's your princess,
your shining star.

You'll stay up all night for her.
You'll spend every penny on her.
I'm jealous, I can't compete.
I can't send blood rushing,
through your veins,
nor can I keep your heart pumping
at such a terrific pace.

No,
I can't keep your attention,
as long as you can hold her sweetness in your lungs.

I am only a woman,
a sad, lonely woman,
with no joy,
no happiness in me.

I can offer you my tears of hurt.
To me you lie, to her you give everything.

Me you abuse,
her you worship.

Your family you allow to struggle,
to her pimp you give more than enough.

You tell me not to worry,
everything's gonna be taken care of.

This I believe,
because in time I'll be able to take care of me,
then your mistress can give you

one

final

HEART ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!

Fate Be Told By: K. Wilhelmina Floria 6/9/09

Weeping sorrows,
full of illusions and dissatisfaction.
Stimulating anxiety,
a designer disorder,
yearning sedation,
requiring rehab.
Seeking amends
for a life
unfixable.
Really too tired to care.
Hiding,
deep in the shadows.
Invisibly trying to be seen.
Now.
Was it fate
that gave me this day?
Or,
was it the life I lived
that became my fate?
Once I tried to steal joy,
sure that happiness would follow.
So said,
that time is gone.
Today,
fires of hell are trying to engulf me.
Blinding my eyes
With oozing tears of strength.
Eliminating the dark flames of hell,
to a path where heaven shines,
and warm my cold heart.